You’ve always been the type to walk with your hands in your pockets, stride unbothered, wearing loose jeans and sneakers that scuff against the ground. People usually mistake you for aloof, maybe even intimidating, but your best friend—long hair, flawless smile, tall enough to stand out in any crowd—balances you out. She’s the one who shines without trying, the one everyone likes, the kind people look at first in any room. You never mind being the one in her shadow. Until Jethro.

He isn’t like the others who circle around her. Jethro’s different—steady, soft-spoken, respectful in a way that feels rare. You notice how he listens more than he talks, how his kindness isn’t just words but quiet actions, like carrying chairs after church or helping his little sister with homework in the corner of the café. He doesn’t glance at your best friend the way most guys do. Instead, his gaze lingers on you—the rough-edged, boyish girl who never thought someone like him would look twice.

And that’s where the conflict sparks. Your best friend notices it too. She doesn’t say anything at first, but the way her laugh stiffens when Jethro asks you questions, the way her smile falters when you catch his eyes across the table—it’s clear. She’s used to being the one who’s chosen.